The Elder Lands

Chapter 42: Battles Without, Battles Within

Chapter 42: Battles Without, Battles Within

Lucan stepped out of his father’s chamber to find Cordell still standing by the door. He nodded to the man-at-arms before proceeding down the hallway. Then he stopped and turned around, remembering that it was Cordell’s spear that saved him from an uncertain confrontation with the assassin. “Thank you, Cordell.”

Cordell gave him a firm nod of acceptance. “It’s my duty.”

Lucan went on his way, taking a turn before remembering that he didn’t know where the princess was. He stopped a servant who told him that she was in the palace gardens and how to get there.

From hallways to open halls and from open halls to corridors. Lucan had to stop servants two more times to be pointed in the direction of the elusive garden. Yet, the hallways never seemed to come to an end.

It was when he found himself walking in a completely empty one that it all crashed into him and he collapsed upon himself. He nearly fell, only catching himself on the wall as his knees failed to carry him. He’d been tense since he’d returned from the Labyrinth, but he’d also been keeping everything at bay. The near-death by the Archsal’awas’ ambush. The assassin that had come for his life. His life. What was he? An Emperor of old around which lurked plots, schemes, and murderers? Had he not been a simple knight’s son not more than a month ago? His life was no longer that simple though. Now he schemed against princes, delved depths by royal decree, and fended off assassins. How easy would it be for his life to be snuffed out? He was already lucky that he hadn’t lost any of his men to the Labyrinth, but how long would that luck persevere?

He gave his back to the wall and breathed in deeply. Worst of all was that the threats against his life were now hidden within every shadow, every dark corner. It stalked him from nooks and crannies he might not perceive. Even the beasts had ambushed him through a damned wall. Could he trust his father’s words that he was safe here?

He stopped himself.

This wasn’t the conduct expected of him. This wasn’t what someone his father was proud of would feel. He couldn’t let fear cow him. The heady feeling he’d gotten from his father’s acknowledgement returned to him and his knees resummoned their strength. He took a deep breath and pushed everything back whence it came. He would persevere, at least until they got out of this pit of a city.

Lucan pushed off the wall and continued on his way, determination giving surety to his step.

He found the garden without further guidance. It had only been two walls away. He emerged into the light of day, letting the rays of the sun bath him in their golden light. The scent of a thousand flowers invaded his nostrils, potent enough to revivify a dying man. Around him, a colorful typhoon spread. Trees trimmed to a point. Flowers arranged in artful patterns. And walkways of marble and stone in between.

A maidservant was already waiting for him. “This way, Master Lucan. Her Highness is waiting near the pond.”

Lucan followed her through the walkways until they reached a small pond where lotus flowers floated near the edges and odd green plants floated in the middle. The princess was standing with her back to the pond, wearing a reddish cream dress that flowed out beneath her. She was watching over a blanket of white that Lucan realized was made of countless lilies when he got close enough.

She spoke before he came up beside her. “Lucan. Hale and healthy, I hope?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Lucan said as he stepped up beside her.

She turned towards him, a turbid smile on her lips. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“I’m not very happy for me, however.”

Lucan pressed his lips and stayed quiet. He knew what was sure to come next.

“I can understand you mounting a cautious approach to such a risky venture. I can also understand you cutting it short when one of your men was gravely injured,” the princess said. A Coldness crept into her features as she spoke and her smile solidified into ice. “What I cannot–no–may not understand is you treating one of those I patronize roughshod.”

“He nearly killed one of my men. He acted like a fool for most of our journey through the Labyrinth,” Lucan blurted out, nearly cursing himself after, for not mastering himself better. He could’ve done better than let his irritation guide his words.

“It had nothing to do with a certain precious metal then? Which you wrested while ‘punishing’ him for his conduct?”

“He did deserve it,” Lucan snapped, then caught himself this time before continuing. A chuckle nearly escaped his throat and a small smile did betray him. This wasn’t about him walloping one of her subordinates. It was about the mythril. He spoke again, but this time he was calm, measured. “Your Highness, he claimed the mythril under our protection. He would never have survived those depths without us.”

“Which is why I sent you with him,” she said. “I didn’t send him and Lilian to be in your care. I sent you to care for them. This whole matter was a repayment, Lucan. One which you are not delivering on very well.”

“I was to aid your friends in advancing, Your Highness, not in finding treasure.”

“You were to aid them in anything required,” she countered. “I told you in my letter. This venture into the Labyrinth was in the interest of me and mine, before your own. Above your own. Are you one to break your promises, Lucan?”

Lucan was stumped, uncertain of how to respond. There was no justification for him to keep the invaluable grain of mythril. And he so so wanted to keep it. He could have his own goldsteel sword like his father. Like Winton. He blinked and saw the princess’s hand extended towards him.

“Give it,” she said, brooking no argument.

Lucan grit his teeth and hesitated.

“Give it,” the princess said again, the color of warning tainting her tone.

Lucan put his hand into his pouch and took out the mythril. Before he handed it to her, however, he spoke. “Fine. But my men’s lives were risked for this. My life was risked.”

“What do you want?” she asked, her eyes captured by the grain of silvery metal.

“You have another friend that I’ve met. Sawyer. I want him to come with me for a time..to our territory. We have a problem that he may or may not be able to solve.”

The princess let out a ringing titter, then she spoke without hesitation. “You may have him, provided, of course, that he isn’t against it.”

“I’m certain you can persuade him,” Lucan said, still holding back the grain of mythril.

“I will try my best,” the princess said. “I promise. I don’t break my promises. Just as you don’t...” She gestured at the mythril.

Lucan nodded and put it in her hand.

She immediately brought it to her eyes just like he’d once done in the Labyrinth. She observed it intently then said, “My mother once had a mythril ring. Can you believe it?”

Lucan didn’t speak, unsure of what to say.

“When she died, my father melted it down to have goldsteel armor forged for Dane,” she continued, chuckling ruefully. Her next words came in a thin whisper as though not intended to be mouthed. “And he has the audacity to–” She cut herself off with an exasperated sigh. She covered the tension of the moment with busyness, signaling for one of the servants, who approached her and leaned in to listen to a whispered command.

The servant ran off and the princess turned to Lucan once more. “The mythril will serve a needful purpose, Lucan. I’m grateful.”

Lucan gave her his most incredulous stare. It’s not as though you gave me a choice. “You are most welcome, Your Highness.”

“One of your men was injured,” she said. “Is he well?”

“He’s better, Your Highness,” Lucan said with a slight smile. “I’m certain he would be honored and grateful for your concern.”

“I’m glad,” she said with a mannered smile of her own. “And you?”

“Shallow wounds,” Lucan said. “Nothing to concern Your Highness with.”

“I see,” the princess said. “Well, not to–Ah, Sawyer has arrived.” Her gaze was aimed behind Lucan who turned to follow it, catching sight of the approaching young man, who looked evidently older than him.

Sawyer had a full head of brown hair that he’d given free rein to, but it was naturally tame and framed his face in a circular crown of soft twists and curls.

The engineer stretched a smile as he saw them, quickly bowing to the princess and inclining his head towards Lucan. “Your Highness. Master Lucan.”

“Sawyer,” the princess began. “Thank you for arriving promptly.”

“I’m always at your service, Your Highness,” came his practiced response.

“Well, then I hope it would be tolerable for you to be at someone else’s service for a modest amount of time.”

“Your Highness?” The smile on Sawyer’s face turned into something quizzical, disguising an anxious mind if Lucan was reading the man right.

“Lucan here would like to hire your services for something of import in his father’s territory.”

Sawyer’s countenance turned flat before scrunching into anxiousness. “But…Your Highness, the capital. The-the–”

“Be at ease, Sawyer. You will be back shortly,” the princess said before turning to Lucan. “Isn’t that so, Lucan?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Lucan said. He looked at Sawyer with an easy smile. “Just some troubles that need a man of knowledge such as yourself to take a gander at.”

“I see,” Sawyer said, his manner subdued. His eyes darted to the princess beseechingly every other moment, but she either responded to his glances with assuring smiles or ignored them altogether.

Lucan had his doubts about why the engineer was so desperate to stay. He’d only seen him and Helena for a brief encounter, but it had been quite evident that he intimately cared about her.

“What are these troubles, Master Lucan?” Sawyer asked softly.

Lucan went on to tell him about the saltwater lake they were struggling with, but he neglected to mention the roads or the canals they were digging, which he would certainly have the engineer take a close look at when he arrived at the territory.

The princess didn’t show much curiosity towards what Lucan wanted her man for, but he suspected that she would wring Sawyer dry about everything he saw once he returned. In truth, it would be wise for her not to show any interest in his affairs so that he may not suspect Sawyer of spying on him. Lucan didn’t know if the princess was wise, but he did know that she was cunning. He would have to keep an eye on Sawyer, even if he looked like a frightened deer at the moment.

After hearing about the lake, Sawyer looked uncertain and perhaps a little resigned. “I would have to see it.”

“Which is why I’m inviting you to lodge at our keep down south,” Lucan said. “The weather is kind this time of the year in our lands. A bit wet at times, but mostly fresh and crisp.”

Sawyer’s eyes turned shifty for a while, as though he was searching his mind for an ingenious way to slip out of this commitment, but he eventually capitulated. “I’d be happy to be of service.”

“Splendid.” Lucan felt his face split into a wide, unfeigned smile. “You will be compensated for said service, naturally.”

Sawyer forced a smile and nodded to him in what seemed to be his attempt at looking grateful.

Lucan turned to the princess and gave her an affirming smile which she returned. Her hands were empty and the mythril was nowhere to be seen. Lucan had to suppress a grimace as the image of the valuable piece of metal emerged in his mind, reminding him of what had been lost.

He would live.

Besides, there were things of more import than a sword. Doubtless.